


Keeping Your Clothes On

by chuusei_teki_na_koe



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, M/M, Strip Poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 11:15:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25349851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuusei_teki_na_koe/pseuds/chuusei_teki_na_koe
Summary: Akira invites the whole gang to a little team bonding exercise: a friendly game of poker.Immediately, Yusuke: “I should mention that I don't have any money. So I would rather we strip.”“Good idea,” Akira nodded. “Let's do it.”
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Comments: 32
Kudos: 254





	Keeping Your Clothes On

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't edit this. Posting it before I can have regrets. 
> 
> Some mild/implied akeshu

Akira had summoned everyone to Leblanc, and they all showed up as per usual. He'd just texted everyone to _come to Leblanc today_ and not what they were doing, but they probably all assumed they were going to the Metaverse.

Akira had other plans, however.

“Actually, I called everyone over to play poker,” he said, fully ready for the collection of underwhelmed looks he got in response.

“Really, Akira?” Makoto said skeptically. “Shouldn't we be exploring Maruki's palace?”

“We need to take a break sometimes,” Akira said. “And I want to play poker.”

He heard a sigh to his left. “If that's all it is,” Akechi said, pushing off the counter where he usually stood, aloof from the others. “Then I'm going. I don't have the time for this.”

“What, afraid you're gonna lose?”

Akechi froze. He was _so_ easy to manipulate, it was actually sad.

“I mean, if you wanna back out now, I won't stop you,” Akira added. “But I did want to play a game with you.”

Akechi slowly turned back, and with a pained look on his face, resumed his original counter position. This was how Akira wrangled him into playing billiards every time. Akechi would put up a show of _no, I don't actually care about hanging out with you losers,_ but Akira would make him come anyway, and by the end of the night, Akechi was usually smugly smirking to himself about how good he was at billiards, and Akira figured he had a good time.

Everyone else easily went along with it, and so it was settled. So they all went upstairs to set up a table and got a deck of cards. There wasn't really enough room or enough chairs, so in the end, Futaba and Ann were sitting on the bed with Morgana, while Yusuke, Ryuji and Makoto were squeezed together on the couch at the table, Akechi and Akira sat on opposite sides of the table, and Haru and Sumire were on folding chairs opposite Yusuke and Ryuji.

They had a bowl of mandarin oranges in the middle of the table, and a couple more on the window sill so the girls on the bed could munch on them, too.

“So what rules are we going to go by?” Makoto asked as Akira shuffled the deck.

“I figure we just deal a hand and start betting,” Akira said as he started dealing the cards. “Keep it simple.”

“Does everyone here even know all the hands, though?” Makoto pointed out.

“Uhh, yeah, sure, totally,” Ryuji said, not suspiciously at all.

“Don't you usually bet money for this?” said Ann, from the bed.

“Gambling brings back unpleasant memories,” Makoto replied with a frown.

“Yeah, of getting stabbed in the back and stuff,” Ryuji said flatly as he picked up his cards.

“You're welcome,” Akechi said in his old cinnamon bun tone with a bright smile.

“Please never smile like that again, dude, it freaks me out...”

“Oh, I have a smile every day just for you, Sakamoto.”

“You'll make me jealous,” Akira said, eyeing his cards.

“Ha-ha, Kurusu,” Akechi shot back, tone dripping sarcasm as he glared at Akira, but Akira deliberately ignored him.

“I should mention that I don't have any money.” Yusuke looked at his cards with a dour expression. “So I would rather we strip.”

“What?!” Makoto half jumped out of her seat, while Ann had a similar reaction. Sumire was blushing but didn't oppose it, Futaba was blushing and leering at the same time, Ryuji was looking very determinedly away from everyone and trying not to be obviously excited, and Haru was obviously excited. Akechi had a little smirk on his face, but that wasn't any different from normal.

“Good idea,” Akira nodded. “Let's do it.”

“No!” Ann smacked her hand on the bed. “I'm not getting naked with you guys!”

Morgana cat-nodded. “You don't have to do anything like that, Lady—”

“But Ann, we've already seen you naked,” Haru cut in sweetly, and Futaba nodded.

“Wait, really?” Ryuji was suddenly curious. “Like, what...”

“Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, Ryuji,” Ann rolled her eyes. “We just went to the public bath together, all us girls.” Seeing Ryuji's eyes glaze over, she clapped her hands. “Out of the gutter, Ryuji!”

“Hey, what are you, the thought police?!”

“Just so you know,” Futaba piped up, “Ann's are the biggest.”

“I knew that already,” Ryuji said, then ducked when Ann threw an orange peel at his face.

“You guys really have lively get-togethers,” Sumire said with an awkward laugh, and both Ann and Ryuji settled down, embarrassed.

“So are we stripping, or not?” Yusuke said.

“What is your obsession with stripping?!” Ann shot back.

“If you don't want to strip,” Akira said reasonably, “You can bet money, and the rest of us strip.”

“Ngh...” Ann didn't much seem to like that either, though.

“I'm totally okay with everyone here seeing my naked bod,” Ryuji said, weirdly proud about it.

“With your skills, that seems like an inevitability tonight,” Akechi cut in with a smirk, and Ryuji scowled back at him.

“Yeah, I guess I can't compete with the best liar in the room,” Ryuji said loudly. “I guess we all know who's keeping his clothes on tonight.”

Akira just smiled at his cards.

x x x

_Round one._

“With those cards, Ann, you gotta fold,” Futaba said, leaning over to look at Ann's hand.

“Hey!” Ann hid her cards, but then groaned and threw them down. “I fold.”

Makoto, Yusuke and Sumire also folded, while everyone else moved on to the next round of betting. They were using little shreds of paper to bet, and every three pieces of paper counted as one article of clothing. This was basically to draw it out longer and keep them from all getting naked right away.

Another round of betting, and there were a few more folds, leaving Ryuji, Akira, Akechi, and Futaba. Morgana was not playing, for obvious reasons.

“Call,” Futaba said, and there were no more raises, so they all showed their cards. Futaba had a straight, everyone else had trash. “Aww, yeah!” She pumped a fist, and the room was filled with sighs. Ryuji took off his jacket, Akechi took off one of his gloves, and Akira took off his glasses.

“Don't you need those?” Makoto asked him.

“They're fake,” Morgana piped up from the bed, and there was a sea of cries of shock.

“Poser!” Futaba cried in horror. “You don't understand the true pain of having to wear glasses!”

After the next round, Ryuji kicked off a sock, Haru took off her cardigan, and Yusuke, like the pervert he was, immediately took off his shirt.

“You coulda just taken off a sock, dude! You're making this uncomfortable!” Ryuji said, leaning as far away from Yusuke as he could, but Makoto, sitting on Yusuke's other side, seemed quite unmoved.

“Haven't you ever been to the beach?” she said.

“This isn't the same thing!” Ryuji cried—he was definitely protesting too much.

“Rather than just stripping,” Akira suggested casually, “Why don't we add a little something extra, for fun?”

“Like what, exactly?” Akechi looked at him sharply from across the table.

“Well, let's say,” Akira rubbed a finger against his chin, “The first three people who are stripped down to their underwear have to sing and dance Risette's latest single.” And then before anyone could stop him, he went to his shelf to whip out the CD—he'd bought ten copies, of course—and set the disc in his stereo, turning it up so everyone could hear it nice and clear.

And then, standing in the middle of the attic in his socks, Akira whipped out the full three minute dance routine, flawlessly memorized.

_You caught my heart heart heart_

_And I thought I'd never love again but ohhhhh_

_I wanna feel you inside me tonight!_

Akira was down on his knees, arms above him, as he thrust his hips three times for _heart heart heart_ , then swept up to his feet for the final pose, dashing a dot of sweat off his nose as he turned his head to the side.

The entire room was silent.

Ann finally broke the silence with a weak, hesitant little clap. “...Come on, guys, that was actually good!”

“Creepily good,” Futaba agreed.

“...I highly doubt Sakamoto could remember that much choreography, even if you gave him a month,” Akechi quipped.

“Hey!”

Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, Akira returned to his chair. “It's fine. Just do as much as you remember, or improvise.”

“I'm for this challenge,” Futaba said, and Ann nodded along with her.

“Yeah, sounds fun!”

“I'd like to try dancing that,” Sumire said. “...Maybe not naked, though...”

The girls were surprisingly into it. It was the guys who were looking morose about it.

“No!” Ryuji snapped. “I ain't makin' an ass of myself like that!”

“I don't want to see Sakamoto attempting to dance that, either,” Akechi said.

“I doubt any of us would manage anything beautiful...” Yusuke agreed.

But the boys were outnumbered, and it was determined that _Heartcatch!_ would be the punishment for the first three losers.

Predictably, Ryuji was the first one to end up naked.

When he took off his shirt, he tossed it across the room with a whoop. “Aww yeah, welcome to the gun show!” he said, kissing each of his muscular biceps.

“I don't want to sit next to him anymore...” Makoto drooped against the card table, leaning her head on her hands. She still had most of her clothes on, having abandoned the halter top over her blouse and removed her skirt, but she still had her leggings underneath.

When Ryuji stood from the couch and walked out to the center of the room unbuckle his belt and drop his pants, the eyes of the whole party were on him. He was blushing, but surprisingly smug about it. “You guys all want a look at my bod, huh? I get it, I get it. This is what going to the gym every day gets ya!” And he smacked his own ass, then looked embarrassed he'd just done it.

“Shut _up,_ Ryuji,” Ann called out at him, but she was looking, too.

Akira got up from his chair and walked over to the CD player. He gave Ryuji a look. “You know what you have to do.” He handed Ryuji a hairbrush.

Ryuji groaned, taking the hairbrush. “Yeah, yeah.”

And singing into the hairbrush, Ryuji belted out the most embarrassing, horrendous, off-key rendition of _Heartcatch!_ while he danced around like a complete idiot. Standing beside the bookshelf with his arms crossed, Akira watched with cool interest as Ryuji got down on his knees and thrust his hips on the iconic _heart heart heart_ moment. When he was done, Akira offered him a slow clap.

“Are you guys happy now?!” Ryuji yelled as he smacked the hairbrush into Akira's hands, blushing halfway down his chest.

“Very happy,” Akira nodded with satisfaction.

“I think that was very brave of you,” Haru said with a smile, but her remark just made Ryuji whimper and cringe in on himself.

So Ryuji was now out, curled up in the corner moaning to himself in humiliation. A couple more rounds, and everyone was starting to look more naked. Ann, despite her initial protests, had gotten into it, was sitting there in a tunic shirt and underwear, with Morgana sprawled over her lap to protect her dignity. Futaba was still remarkably clothed, but Yusuke had his pants and nothing else, and Sumire and Makoto were both shirtless in bras.

Surprisingly, Haru was the next one to lose all her paper slips. She'd seemed rather eager to get rid of them, in fact.

“Oh, no! What do I do? Now I have to strip! Kyaaa!” She jumped out of her seat with the fakest expression of horror as she stood up to unbutton her blouse in front of everyone. Yusuke turned his head away like a gentleman, Ryuji was still moaning in the corner, and Akechi looked absolutely disinterested, but Akira turned to watch the show, and the girls were all watching with various states of interest, though Makoto tried to pretend like she wasn't, at first.

“Woo! Take it off!” Futaba whistled as if she was drunk, and Haru giggled, slithering out of her skirt.

Standing there in her frilly pink bra and panties, Haru squirmed around with giddy embarrassment. Akira walked over to the CD player and nodded at her.

Haru's version of _Heartcatch!_ was significantly more bearable than Ryuji's. She actually knew the lyrics to the song and sang on key, though most of her dancing was just vague swaying and hopping around, and she got an enthusiastic applause from all the girls.

Then when she was done, she went over to get an orange and then plopped back in her seat with a beaming smile on her face, as if she'd crossed something off her bucket list.

“So who's gonna be the last to do the dance, you think?” Ann wondered out loud as they started the next round.

“You're the one with the least strips,” Futaba pointed out.

“I don't wanna...” Ann moaned. “And how come _he_ still has like all his clothes on?!” she pointed over at Akira accusingly.

“They do call me Joker,” Akira said, looking down at his cards. “And Akechi is pretty dressed, too.” He looked over at the boy sitting opposite him. He'd taken off his gloves and his socks, but that was it. Everyone else in the room was half-naked at least, but the two of them both still had pants and shirt on. Akechi even still had his sweater vest. The both of them had a large pile of paper strips in front of them.

“Sorry I'm so good at poker,” Akechi said with a smile, clearly not sorry at all.

“I wanna see Akira naked!” Futaba wailed to the ceiling. “Why can't I get you to strip?!”

Akira grinned to himself. He'd figured Futaba would try counting cards, which was why he'd sat her on the bed next to Ann, who was sure to get naked quickly. She would be far too distracted to be looking at everyone's hands.

“Yeah, let's make Akira strip!” Ann agreed with her. “Let's start an anti-Akira coalition! All of us try to bet against him!”

“That's not how poker works...” Makoto said with a sigh.

Ryuji, who had finally recovered from his humiliation and was leaning against the TV, said, “Who cares, we've all seen Akira naked anyway.”

Akira didn't miss Akechi's eyes snap up.

“Wait, what?” said Ann.

“We've all been to the bathhouse together,” Akira explained.

“Oh, so then who's dick is the biggest?” Ann said—and everyone stared over at her in shock. “What?! You guys already talked about my boobs! This is just revenge!”

“It's not like I was loo—” Ryuji began, but he was immediately cut off by Yusuke.

“Akira's is the biggest,” he answered without hesitation, and Akechi made a smothered sound.

Akira looked up at him. “Is that surprising? You've already seen my dick.”

The room went silent.

“...That time we went to the bathhouse together,” Akira finished after a deliberate pause.

“I wasn't looking!” Akechi snapped. “Why would I be looking at that?! It's not like I want to see your dick!”

They all silently examined their cards.

“Well, since everyone wants to see me naked,” Akira said, facing down Akechi's death glare, “Let's raise the stakes.” And he shoved his whole pile of paper strips into the pot.

“I fold,” Futaba said immediately, and Ann, Makoto, Yusuke, and Sumire followed.

Akechi hesitated, though. And Akira just looked at him with a pleasant smile.

“Are you deliberately trying to lose, Kurusu?” Akechi accused him with a glare.

Akira grinned wide back at him. “I always play to win. But it's not fun unless the stakes are high, am I right? Think you can beat me?”

Akechi hesitated another moment, his good sense warring against his pathological desire to compete with Akira, but eventually, Akira could see in his eyes that he was giving in, that he couldn't allow himself to back down, and he shoved his full pile of strips into the middle of the table.

Akira revealed his cards. Straight flush.

“You mother _fucker!_ ” Akechi leaped from his seat, tossing his chair back, and Akira flopped back in his chair, laughing.

“Time to strip, Akechi!” Futaba said with a clap of her hands, and Haru joined in with her, chanting _strip! Strip! Strip!_ in a more than slightly malicious way.

“That's more paper than articles of clothing, though,” Sumire commented innocently. “He'd have to take off his underwear as well...”

Akechi grabbed his socks and gloves and shoved his way around the table, heading for the stairs, but Akira caught him by the back of his sweatervest, yanking him back. “We had a deal, Akechi,” he said.

“Fuck your deal! I'm not stripping with you perverts!” Akechi snapped, but Akira wouldn't let go, and Futaba and Haru were still chanting.

“Guys, guys,” Ann said, quieting down the other girls, “Maybe this makes him uncomfortable. He can do something else instead, like—oh, some truth or dare stuff? Like tell us a deep dark secret, or...”

“Oh, you could tell us your crush!” Sumire suggested.

Akechi immediately went bright red. “No!”

“So you have a crush,” Ann replied eagerly. “Ohh ohh, who is it?”

“I'm not telling you—” He shook his head, “No, I don't have a _crush_ on anyone here! I'm going!” But Akira caught him by the sweatervest again, yanking him back.

“Come on, I just want to have fun with you, Akechi,” Akira said, releasing his sweatervest to sit back in his chair, spun away from the table to face Akechi. “You can try another challenge if you want. There are lots of games we could play. Like, spin the bottle...” he kept his expression carefully neutral, watching the blush crawling up Akechi's neck deepen. “Or are you going to chicken out?”

He watched Akechi grit his teeth, scowl. And then after one more moment of hesitation, he ripped off his sweatervest and tossed it across the room. Akira's eyes never left him as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, tossed it aside, then unbuckled his belt. Though Akira had seen it before, at the bathhouse, this was...a rather different environment.

He dropped his pants and kicked them away—and then before anyone at the time to say another word, he ripped off his boxer-briefs as well to stand there in front of them all, completely naked.

“Satisfied?!” he snarled as all eyes traveled to his junk.

Akira just got up silently and went over to the CD player. He pressed play.

Akechi did the dance.

Oh, he more than just did the dance. He knew all the lyrics like he sang them at karaoke every night, and he knew the choreography probably better than Risette's own backup dancers. But sadly, his excellent dancing was perhaps slightly overshadowed by the sight of his cock flopping around with every motion, and that was all anyone in the room could look at. Sumire had her hands over her eyes, peeking through her fingers, Ryuji initially tried to pretend like he was grossed out but eventually dropped the pretense, Ann's eyes were bulging out of her head, glued to the sight of Akechi's massive, bare ass bouncing around the attic.

_You caught my heart heart heart_

_And I thought I'd never love again but ohhhhh_

_I wanna feel you inside me tonight!_

Akechi crooned, his dick gyrating in a circle with each hip thrust of _heart heart heart,_ and he ran his hand down his chest and over his thigh sensuously.

When he finished off with the final pose, eyes closed, nobody said a word.

Blood dripping down his face from his nose, Akira offered him a slow clap. “Bravo,” he said hoarsely. “Bravo.”


End file.
